Blackmail
by starhawk2005
Summary: PWP. House wants Chase to write him scrips for Vicodin. Chase wants something in return.


**Blackmail **

**Author: starhawk2005**

**Summary: PWP. House wants Chase to write him scrips for Vicodin. Chase wants something in return.**

**Disclaimer: Unless we wake up in a parallel universe tomorrow where I am Supreme Goddess of Everything, SO not mine.  
Author's Notes: Spoilery for S3 of House.**

"No, I couldn't say _this_ in front of Foreman," House said. "I need a refill."

Chase couldn't believe it. "Detective Tritter knows about the scrips I wrote before-"

"Exactly. If you stop now, it'll look suspicious."

Chase just stared at House, as if the other man was insane. "Does anyone fall for that argument?"

House fixed him with a dark look in return. "Write the scrip," he commanded.

"No." Chase stood his ground. He was tired of all this. Getting it up the ass from both sides - literal, from House, figurative, from Tritter – had gone on long enough. Things were going to change around here, he decided.

House relented, slightly. Trying to cajole instead. "One prescription isn't going to mean-"

Chase cut him off. "We both know it isn't going to be just one." He thought fast. "Which is why, if you want them, you're going to have to make it worth my while." He emphasized the end of the sentence, doing his best to stare House down.

"All right," House said, making a show of reaching into a pocket for his wallet. "You want an increase in your _allowance_? No problem."

"No," Chase said sharply, in the same tone as before. "I want to be in charge." He paused to let his meaning sink in.

House gazed at him contemptuously for a minute. "_Right._ You've secretly wanted to be the 'top' this whole time, and I've been selfishly keeping the upper hand."

"You can diagnose me, or you can agree and I'll write you your scrip. It's your choice, Greg." They'd agreed never to call each other by first name while at work, but Chase did it deliberately now, just to drive the point home about who had the power in this relationship at the moment.

"Fine," House finally snapped. "Make it two scrips, and you're on."

Hours later, and Chase was standing by House's bed, staring at the other man across a seemingly endless width of mattress. OK, he was in charge…now _what_?

Greg pounced on Chase's hesitation. "Not so easy, is it, Robbie? Now you've got to run the whole show. Got to be _creative_. Talk about a challenge. Not to mention, you've got my leg to contend with-"

"Shut up," Chase said sharply. "And it's not 'Robbie'. It's 'Dr. Chase'. You wouldn't want me to have to _cane_ you, would you, Greg?"

It's an empty threat, but it got Greg's attention. He straightened up a bit, eyes narrowing.

"OK. Have you thought this through, _Dr. Chase_? Are you going to tie me down on the bed? Face-up? Face-down? Are you-"

"If you don't shut _up_, Greg, I'm going to gag you," Chase said, almost surprised at how calm it came out. He realized he could get used to this.

House's jaw shut with an almost audible snap, and he shifted. The sudden silence was a blessing, far as Chase was concerned. If only he could use this threat at work, especially once House really got going.

"Take off your clothes," Chase ordered. It was a good first step. Even if House was right, and Chase hadn't really thought through what was going to come next.

Greg sat on the bed and slowly got naked. Chase decided that tying Greg to the bed was a good idea, and he started to get busy with the ropes. He knew exactly how to attach them to House's sleigh bed, from the countless times their roles had been reversed and Chase had been the one on the mattress, watching Greg hobble around, preparing to make him totally helpless.

"Lie down on the bed on your back," he snapped at Greg when all clothing was out of the way.

Greg started to make a face, but didn't say anything. Especially when Chase held up the ball-gag from the night-table drawer. Just another threat, but it did the job nicely.

Chase tied Greg down, although the binding around the ankle of his bad leg was just for show. Greg wasn't going anywhere, regardless.

Chase sat next to Greg's hip, and started to run his hands along the other man's body. He still had all his clothes on, but he decided to stay clothed for the moment. Just to emphasize again which of them was naked and vulnerable, and which one had the power.

Under his hands, the different textures fascinated him. Warm there, burning hotthere. Smooth skin there, furry skin there, rough stubble _there_. Greg twisted a little, trying to urge Chase's hands to occupy themselves with his erection, but Chase resisted.

He got an idea, suddenly. "Be right back," he said, getting up from the bed and going into the other room, to the bowl of candy canes on the coffee table. He snagged one, pulling the plastic off, then returned to the bedroom.

Smirking, he hooked the cane's end around the base of Greg's cock, then stepped back to admire the view. "Adds a nice festive touch, don't you think, Greg?"

"I think you need to get on with it," Greg rasped.

Chase could have threatened him with the ball-gag again, but then he would have missed Greg's pleas. This was better.

"In case you hadn't noticed," Chase commented, slowly peeling his shirt off, "That's no longer up to _you_."

He got on the bed, straddling the body of the older man, and leaned closer. He kissed Greg deeply, tasting coffee and cigarettes, letting his chest rub against Greg's. There was no resistance, even when Chase got aggressive, pushing his tongue deeper into Greg's mouth. Yes, Chase could _definitely_ get used to this.

Chase decided he wanted to feel that tongue teasing his own erection, so he moved back to the edge of the bed, shedding his remaining clothing. He knelt carefully over Greg's head. "Blow me," he ordered, smirking as he thought of all the times he'd restrained himself from saying just that to House, in front of his colleagues during their differential diagnoses. "And be sure to do a good job," he added, "Or I might just 'forget' to get you off."

Greg made a sound suspiciously like a snarl, but his tongue started dart wetly around Chase's shaft without any further editorial remarks.

It was heavenly, and Chase didn't know why he'd never thought of doing this before, of dominating Greg like this. Greg's mouth was hot and wet and knew exactly what to do and when. It was also very easy for Chase to tease Greg, keep him on the edge – all he had to do was reach down, take hold of the candy cane, and stroke it slowly up and down the length of Greg's straining shaft.

Greg paused to look down, moaning softly. "You're even kinkier than I gave you credit for, Ro- Dr. Chase."

"Just remember that, the next time you start 'riding my ass' in front of Foreman and Cameron," Chase told him.

"Pun intended?" Greg asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Wait and see," Chase said. "And get back to work," he added. He wasn't done enjoying the feel and the sight of Greg working him over with his mouth. A talented mouth, and not just at spouting sardonic comments.

Greg sucked hard, suddenly, and Chase nearly shot his load right there. No, that wouldn't do, not at all.

He removed himself from Greg's mouth with a wet pop, and started to slide himself down the bed. There was a thick bead of pre-come on the head of Greg's cock, and Chase scooped it up with the curve of the candy cane, and greedily licked it off, the mint flavour mingling with the slightly bitter taste of Greg.

"Fuck," Greg opined, and Chase looked over to see the other man watching raptly.

"Soon enough, Greg," Chase said. He dropped the candy cane indifferently on the bed, and then turned his attention to Greg's erection.

It didn't take long. Greg wasn't used to being teased like this. Being tied down and forced to submit to every slow, slick lick of Chase's tongue. Unable to thrust his hips up whenever Chase backed off, containing just the head of Greg's erection in his sucking mouth.

Greg's shaft got even harder between Chase's fingers, his only warning before Greg growled and spilled himself in hot jets over Chase's tongue.

Chase released Greg, lying next to him until the other man recovered. "I'll have to ask you for illicit scrips more often," Greg said, sounding very smug.

"Who says we're done, Greg?" Chase snapped. He hadn't come yet, and he was most definitely about to fix that. He got up from the bed, keenly aware of how Greg's eyes followed his movements, as he got a condom and the bottle of ID Glide from the drawer.

He put the rubber on, then untied both of Greg's legs. "Tilt your hips up," Chase ordered, getting back onto the bed.

He used a liberal amount of lube, not caring if Greg's ass and the bed were awash with it. He'd had Greg like this a few times before, but never while Greg was tied up. Never hurt to be careful.

He worked his way in slowly, past tight muscles, pushing deeper and deeper. Greg's eyes were shut, lines standing out in his neck, and Chase paused, waiting.

"I'm OK," Greg said, "Just go _slow_."

Chase did just that, until he was as deep as he could go. Then he stroked in and out, slow and careful, watching House. Using a different angle on each stroke, until he found the one that would hit the sweet spot and make Greg shudder and gasp. "Like that?" Chase asked.

"Yeah," Greg said. "You can pick up the pace any _time_, by the way."

Greg was starting to get uppity again, so Chase gave his ass a sharp swat, drawing a glare from the other man. "You're still forgetting who's in charge here, Greg. Guess I'll have to remind you."

It went on for awhile. Chase moved slowly, leisurely, interspersing thrusts with slaps on Greg's ass. Greg wasn't protesting any more. In fact, Greg's erection was back up to full-mast. Chase filed that information away for later use, and started to move faster and faster.

It was too hot, too tight. He couldn't take much more. Chase finally gave a last deep thrust and orgasmed, slumping forward onto Greg as the sensations ripped through him. Even when Chase's senses returned, Greg was still ready for action, throbbing against Chase's skin.

Chase slid out, resuming his position on the bed next to Greg, lying on his side. He supposed he could just leave the other man with blue balls, but then again, Greg was sure to demand revenge later. So Chase just greased his fingers up with more ID and wrapped his hand around Greg, pumping slow and steady, until Greg came a second time.

Chase got up and untied his partner, then went to the bathroom to clean up. The room was dark and Greg under the covers when he returned.

"Well," Greg said before Chase could ask, "I'd say that was worth a scrip."

"Two," Chase reminded him, sleepily.

"Yeah, yeah. God, you're a nag." But Chase felt Greg's lips brush across his anyways, taking any sting out of his words.

Fucked up? Hell yes. But that was a given. Gregory House didn't do 'normal', and neither did Robert Chase.


End file.
